


Books, Screens, and Sunglasses

by rageaceus



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Bookshop Cuddles, Come Eating, Cuddling, Cunnilingus, Fluff, Gender Neutral/Canonically Nonbinary Reader, Gentle Lovin', IM SO FUCKING HONORED, Making Out, Musical Stims, Neurodivergent Reader, Oral Sex, Other, Panic Attacks, Penetrative Sex, Physical Stims, Pining, SERIOUSLY A DUMBSHIT AMOUNT OF FLUFF, Snake Crowley, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Verbal Stims, YOU CANT HIDE FROM ME, aLSO I SAW THAT 'INSPIRED BY GAY-GXNJI, also idk how to tag shit like ‘crowley miracles readers libido to go from 0 to 100’, body worshipping, delta is Back On Their Bullshit, i am absolutely gay on main for the ineffable husbands, listen..... crowley is hot okay, mildly sentient Bentley loves u, next chapter i'll clean up the tags, polyamorus relationship, reader stims, this started out as a crowley x reader but i could not separate my otp, uh oh!!! monsterfucker alert!!!, unfortunately it looks like gentle lovin' is in the sexy way now, yeah i did it bois i wrote the smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-04-23 23:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19160926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rageaceus/pseuds/rageaceus
Summary: a list of short aziraphale/crowley/readers, because there really needs to be more /reader good omens contentnsfw chapters are informed in the titles!!if ur just here for the good shit, it is included in chapter(s): 3





	1. Bookshop

**Author's Note:**

> i will not apologize for being gay on main for crowley. i will not.

You giggled as Crowley mouthed at your pulse point, hands coming up to hold your waist. You balanced on his lap, smiling as the demon showered you in affection. You rubbed Crowley’s hair, gel-free as per your request. You hated the feeling of sticky fingers, and your partner obliged your whims rarely, letting his hair go naturally so you can rub his head as much as you want.

His hands pulled you so he could bury his face in your chest, and he hummed in delight. You grinned, now able to get all the hair pets you were able to dish out. His head radiates warmth, and it made your permanently cold hands flush with color.

“You know, for a snake you’re very warm.” His eyes peered up at you, bright and golden. You swore that the pupils got slightly bigger, but that might have been your imagination.

“‘S the hellfire, sweet. Keeps me nice and cozy.” You ran your nails along the base of his head, and he closed his eyes in content. You pressed his face back into your torso, nearly purring as the heat soaked back through you. The two of you sat like that for a few minutes, humming along to the soft music resonating around the room.

The two of you looked up at the sound of stairs creaking, and the gentle outline of Aziraphale put you at ease. He descends with three mugs of cocoa, balanced on top of two books. You adjust your position in Crowley’s lap and move to sit with his chest pressing against your back.

You smile at Aziraphale as he passes out the coca to the two of you, slowly and carefully as to not spill any. You take yours with a kiss, feeling Aziraphale’s gentle grin against your mouth. You watch with adoration as Crowley receives his kiss and cocoa, elation spreading through you at the relaxed contentment on both of their faces.

You wiggle, getting comfortable in Crowley’s lap, settling in a position on top of his legs that works for the two of you. Aziraphale takes his seat on the chair on the left of you two, relaxing with a sigh as he opens his book, observing the pages with that gaze you love so much.

Aziraphale loved you both an incredible amount, but he was not as familiar with cuddling and the sorts as Crowley was, and preferred to simply relax in your presence than to cuddle. Thus, you simply gave most of your physical affection to Crowley, and most of your verbal affection to Aziraphale. They both drank it up like dry sponges, and if you were lucky, you’d get a long hug from the angel, or a sweet word from the demon.

The first book beneath the cocoa was more for protection of the Aziraphale’s book than for you to actually read, and you simply snuggle into Crowley and sip your drink, flinching back when you burn your lips. Crowley laughs, and takes a big gulp of his, able to withstand the heat of the drink. You glare at him, and he chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Snuggling back into his chest, you let the warmth from his body soak into you, the heat of the drink and his body soak into your skin. The coziness of the bookshop made everything feel hazy around the edges, and you were completely relaxed, finishing your cocoa and swinging your legs over the side of the armrest. You looped your arms around Crowley’s neck and tugged him from where he’d been admiring Aziraphale, capturing him in a kiss.

Your lips moved against him long and slow, taking in the feeling of his mouth on yours, warm and soft and wet. Ever so slowly, you let your tongue lightly pet his bottom lip, asking for his permission. His tongue came out to greet you, forked at the tip and much too hot. It slid along yours, sensual and easy, the dampness of your mouths joining. He licked inside your mouth, slowly discovering every inch of you with his impossibly long tongue. You sucked on it lightly, moving to gently tug his lips with your teeth, and giving sweet little kitten licks into his mouth.

After a few breathless minutes, the two of you slowed, lips parting with several loving, lingering kisses gently pressed into each other. Parting for the last time, a trail of saliva connected your lips, and you watched it droop and droop until it finally broke, giggling lightly. Crowley’s arms came up to wrap around you, head snuggling into the junction between your head and your shoulder. You smiled as he nuzzled you, and then yelped as he pressed a sloppy wet kiss to your neck.

“Ew! Crowley! Your face is wet, stop that! It’s cold!” You immediately brought your hand up to wipe at the spot and his face, cleaning the spit on your own face with a pout. He gave his own yippy little laugh, and then pressed another, thankfully dry, kiss to your neck. You squirmed, and looked over at Aziraphale to find him gazing at you two with the most adoring look you’d ever seen on his face.

Smiling, you enjoyed the sight, and nudged Crowley, pointing him in the angel’s direction. When Aziraphale finally noticed you were staring and jumped, flushing and avoiding your gaze. You spoke before he could make any excuse, cooing lovingly at him.

“Love, you looked so precious right now. All doe-eyed, lookin’ at us with all the love in the universe. You’re so sweet.” He flushed even more, hands rubbing together bashfully. “You’re our lovely, darlin’ angel.” You continued, patting the arm of the chair. Crowley hummed, rubbing your arms as he admired Aziraphale, snakelike grin back on his face and full of love. At this point, Aziraphale had buried the lower half of his face in his hands, embarrassed and thoroughly doted-on.

“They’re right, you know. You’re always so handsome, angel. You always have been.” You rubbed Crowley’s arm, dazed from the warmth and the cocoa and the love that is so easily shared between the three of you. It makes you sleepy, and your vision starts to fade.

You fall asleep to the gentle murmuring of Crowley and Aziraphale, warm, full, and loved.


	2. A Date That Isn't a Date Because Nobody is Dating Yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bro i woke up yesterday like, "i bet this thing got like, one hit." nope. i woke up to 53 hits, and two comments. my mind was wack!!!!!!!!! as im writing this i have five whole comments!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omg yall are so sweet so i cranked this shit out just for yall <3

About three years ago, before you all had started to date, you, Crowley, and Aziraphale were going out to a restaurant the two of them had recommended for you. You slid into the backseat, relaxing into the surprisingly comfortable seats, running your fingers over the texture. The car thrummed to life, and the three of you were off.

Halfway there, you noticed a CD in the back of the Bentley. It was labeled  _ The Best of Queen _ , and you leaned forwards to talk to your friends, gripping the seats as the car jerked to the right.

“Hey, Crowley, your Queen CD is back here.” Suddenly, you remember. “Oh! Hey, I left one of those CD’s I burnt in here last time, where is it?” Crowley took a second to avoid another pedestrian, nose wrinkling as Aziraphale gasped and clutched onto the door handle tighter.

“Oh, yeah. That.” He sniffed, making another sharp turn, throwing everyone to the left. “Pretty much every CD left in here turns into  _ The Best of Queen _ at some point. Sorry about that.” You furrowed your eyebrows, but brushed it off as just demonic magic. Sorrow filled you, remembering the time it had taken you to organize and burn that CD, just to play in Crowley’s car. You placed the CD on the seat next to you.

Aziraphale must have noticed your expression, because he turns towards you as much as he could while hanging on to the top hand bar. He says your name softly, accented voice echoing each syllable.

“Dear, are you alright? You look just a tad upset.” You shake your head, fingers grabbing for your tangle out of your bag, but that proves to be a mistake as you are jerked yet again, and barely manage to stay in place by throwing your hands out. Crowley throws out a quick apology, and you shift your position so you can steady yourself and mess with your tangle at the same time.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just miss that CD a little, yaknow? It took such a long time to get it burned.” You said, looking back at Aziraphale, giving him a sweet smile. He smiles back, and a warm feeling spreads through your chest. You blush slightly and shove it down.

“Oh well, just another victim to the Bentley’s insatiable appetite.” You joke, perking up immediately when Crowley chuckles, the car violently sliding into a parking spot, and you consequently losing your balance and getting thrown across the car. You bump your head on the back door, pain rushing through you, and tears gathering in the corner of your eyes.

You barely register Crowley’s, ‘We’re here’, too consumed with holding your head and taking deep breaths, fury and melancholy storming through you. What you do feel, is Aziraphale’s hand reaching out to touch your arm.

“Are you alright? You took quite a fall.” The angel’s voice permanates the fog, and you sit up, head aching just slightly. You take a deep breath before meeting his eyes, a pearly, pale blue that welcomes you subconsciously.

“Nah, I’m alright. I just get a lil’ upset whenever I hit my head, ‘s all.” You say, smoothing your hair back out. Aziraphale offers his hand to you, and you take it, stumbling your way out of the Bentley with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. For some reason, the second you touch him, the pain in your head fades away, and the swell of emotions in your body dulling down.

Steadying yourself on the angel’s arm, you look to where they’ve brought you. A cute little Italian restaurant, tucked away between a general store and an eye doctor. Your stomach rumbles at the smell coming out of the place, and your mind fills with images of spaghetti, one of your favorites. It makes you excited, hands bouncing near your hips.

“Wow, this place looks so cute! And good! I’m excited to try it, lets go!” You, still holding onto Aziraphale’s arm, drag the two inside, suddenly starving. You’re seated near immediately, something you also chalk up to a ‘miracle’, as the two call it. Sliding into the chairs, you pick up a menu and search for the spaghetti you so desire.

The conversation rolls between the three of you naturally, bringing up new books to read and what shows to watch. You’re the most modern out of the three, so you often recommend the newer stuff. With Crowley’s help, you’re able to get Aziraphale moderately caught up on modern things, and you were so close to getting him to buy a cell phone.

Aziraphale was, to encompass it all, adorable. His smile was proud and positively beaming, and whenever he smiled you found yourself smiling along with him. He was so in love with his books, and you loved hearing him talk about them, so engaged with his passion that he’ll talk for hours on end. Sure, sometimes it gets boring, but you adore seeing him happy. He says such out of date phrases that makes you laugh, and that makes him flustered, and a flustered Aziraphale is even more adorable than a normal one. He was very polite and kind, always there to help you with anything you might have needed.

Rarely, though, you got to see negative emotions on him. His gaze stern, irritation hidden, but still present, on his face. The few times you’d seen it, it made your knees weak. It was very attractive, whenever he got focused or frustrated, to see his gaze look so different, so dominant. But you ignored those feelings, and shoved them down as far as you could.

When the waiter came by, you ordered your spaghetti with the normal anxiety, cursing yourself when you stutter. Crowley and Aziraphale order their food flawlessly, and you find yourself envying the fact that they can talk to people so easily. Probably comes with them knowing that they are much stronger than you mortals or something. You visibly relax when the waiter leaves, and the conversation continues as normal until the food arrives.

You clap your hands lightly and bounce in your seat, grinning widely as the heat from the dish warms your face. Aziraphale hums delightfully at his own plate, reaching out to grasp his fork and take a bite. Crowley takes his time, making conversation before starting on his meal. 

“So, what’s with you and all the games you keep bringing up?” Crowley starts, swallowing a mouthful of wine. Aziraphale wipes his mouth with a napkin and perks up, looking to you.

“Yes, you do seem to mention these… video games, are they called?” Aziraphale says, and looks to Crowley to see if he got it right, who gives a nod back. “Yes. Either way, you do seem to mention them very often. What is it about them that makes you so intrigued?”

You hum, putting down your fork and wiping your own mouth free of any sauce. Your hands start to tap the table as you talk. “Well, for starters, I only have a select few that I really, really like. Some are simply loved out of nostalgia and not for actual quality, but I usually love games for their story. Like, take a game called Night in the Woods…” You talk on and on, rambling about your favorites without actually spoiling them, having to stop yourself mid-sentence and go back several times. What surprised you, was how they both listened intently the whole time, never looking away, with only Aziraphale interrupting when he had a question.

By the time the three of you had finished, you had worn yourself out, and commented on such as you were getting out of your chair.

“So apparently I need to get the Undertale soundtrack CD, so we can listen to it in the Bentley. Oh wow, I’m really worn out.” You leaned over your table and took one last sip of your water, the coolness relieving your dry throat. When you looked back up, you caught Crowley staring at you, though his gaze was a bit downwards. But the split second you turned around, his head spun away to look at something else. You were confused, until you remembered that you just talked for pretty much the whole meal. “Wait, shit, did I just talk for the whole ass time? I’m sorry, I was totally rambling, my bad.” Aziraphale shook his head, holding the door open for the two of you. 

“No, my dear, it was wonderful getting to listen to you. Please, go ahead.” You walked over to the Bently, getting in as Crowley adjusted the driver's seat so you could slip into the back. Relaxing into the seats with a contented sigh, you look out the window as Crowley takes off, Aziraphale and you quickly gripping the sides for balance. 

A few minutes into the drive, sunlight catches your eye. You look over, irritated at the glare beaming into your eyeballs. It’s bouncing off of the CD on the other seat, flipped over to the back where the reflective part is. You pick it up to turn it around, when you notice that it isn’t the  _ Queen _ disc anymore. It’s the disc you burned, back to its original state, all the way to the tiny scratch on the front and your handwriting spelling out:  _ THE WACKEST JAMZ, VOL. HYI _ . 

“Oh my God, guys! Look, my CD! Holy shit it’s back!” You shout delightfully, scooting yourself so you could look at the two, ecstatic smile stretched wide across your face. They both turned to look at you, immediately followed with Aziraphale barking for Crowley to watch the road. You smiled even wider at how adorable they are.

Crowley made a face at Aziraphale’s reprimand, and you snorted. Crowley grinned, and began to make several more faces, each one sillier than the last. You dissolved into laughter, collapsing into the back seat. Even Aziraphale started to chuckle, ending in all three of you pulling faces for each other to laugh at. The rest of the ride was filled with howling laughter, making jokes and impersonations that had you wheezing. It was the hardest you’d laughed in a long time, and when the three of you had finally laughed yourselves to tears, you pulled yourself together enough to ask a question.

“So, when am I getting dropped off at home?” The question seemed to startle the other two, them looking between each other, and then to you. Aziraphale opened his mouth first, stuttering the whole time.

“Well, you see, we’d been hoping that you- well, that-”

“We wanted you to stay with us a little longer.” Crowley interrupted, managing to actually stop at a stoplight. You blinked in shock, surely they were tired of you by now? Aziraphale cleared his throat, and began again.

“That is, of course, if you wanted to stay with us. We’ll gladly drop you off at home if you so wish it.” He said it with an almost disappointed tone, and he barely glanced at you, but you caught the look of his puppy dog eyes. How could you say no?

“Oh hell yeah, that sounds great! Where are we going, boys?” Crowley gave a whoop, and then sped up immediately, a few seconds before the light turned green.

“Alright everyone, lets go! How do we feel about the Nightjar?” Crowley called out, pressing on the gas to speed up even faster. You shook your head, reaching out to clutch your CD.

“Nah, I was just hoping to hang out at the bookshop for a hot minute. How about y’all?” You asked, already thinking about the books you’d been meaning to read in Aziraphale’s shop. Crowley tilted his head side to side, and shrugged before making a sharp turn.

“Oh, the bookshop sounds lovely. I can make us all some cocoa! I even have some marshmallows to put in it, just like you recommended!” Aziraphale exclaimed, smiling an adorable smile that made you blush, affection spreading through you. You pushed it down.

“Seriously, Az, you should stop calling it a bookshop and just call it a library. Saves you the trouble of stopping people from buying your books.” You joked, laughing to yourself when he sputtered and immediately began to decline, insisting that people would simply never return his books if he let anyone borrow them. 

The rest of the night was filled with warm cocoa and pleasant conversation, and by the time you left it was with a promise that you’d bring them over to your place to play Undertale some day.

Crowley drove you home, and during the quiet car ride he let you put your CD in, and you immediately flipped to the stuff by  _ hyi _ , music that fit the late night car rides the two of you took. You’d slowly been introducing your unique taste in music to him, and the glitch style you saved for late at night. The two of you sat in quiet, letting the static of the music fill the Bently, and you tried not to gaze at Crowley too much.

Sure, you found him attractive. Him and Aziraphale both were, although you weren’t sure if it was because of natural angel/demon genes, or because he put effort into his appearance. The curves of his face, the way he dressed, everything about him made attraction bloom within you. You longed to stroke his fiery red hair, and shower him with praise and love and- don’t.

Dragging your gaze away, you stared out the window, barely noticing that the Bentley was driving slower than normal, too consumed with pressing your feelings down the metaphorical garbage disposal. You didn’t even notice when  _ source of ice _ came on, singing along automatically, only realizing halfway through. You got quieter, and then realized that Crowley was staring at you from the corner of your eye, the black shades giving nothing away. 

Realizing that you’ve caught him, he turns back to the road. The song continues, encompassing you, and you gradually let your voice get louder. Suddenly, Crowley’s voice joins in with yours, softly singing along to the lyrics, harmonizing with yours. The two of you softly echo the last lines, the emotion that follows it settling heavily in your chest, neither of you talking but still having that feeling of deep connection.

Crowley pulls up to your apartment, following you as you get out of the car. You move to take your CD with you, but he stops you, shaking his head. You furrow your eyebrows, but put the CD back into the player. The both of you stop at the entrance to your building, the harsh noises of  _ hyi _ still echoing from inside the car. 

You both stare at each other, your reflection staring back at you from Crowley’s shades. Although you should, you don’t feel awkward. The air is tense, and you finally break the silence. 

“Can I see your eyes?” You blurt. Shit. You meant to thank him for the ride home, not that. Crowley’s head turns to the side, and he doesn’t say anything. You immediately feel like you’ve just ruined your entire friendship, and you’re about to start apologizing when his hand comes up to take off his glasses, folding them and putting them in his jacket pocket.

Bright yellow eyes stare at you, slitted pupils jarring through the color like a black hole, swallowing up the light around it. They’re captivating, keeping you frozen in your place, gluing you to the ground with those molten irises. You don’t know how long you stand there, just staring at them, before you’re breaking away as the urge to kiss him becomes too much.

“H-hey,” you shakily begin, “tell me the truth.” Crowley tilts his head, eyebrows raising expectantly. You take a deep breath, and focus on the words coming out of your mouth so you don’t say the wrong thing again.

“Did you miracle my DVD back? I mean, my CD.” You correct yourself, cringing as you mix up the words again. Crowley looked away quickly, seeming to argue with himself for just a moment before turning back to look at you. You’re immediately captured by his eyes yet again.

“Yeah. I did. What about it?” You smiled, taking a few steps to wrap him in a hug, mentally pouring every ounce of affection into it. He startles, and then hesitantly wrapped his own arms around you, warm and comfortable. His head rests on your own, and you press the side of your face into his chest, taking in his scent. He smells like fire, like the woods on a dark night. He smells otherworldly, and yet, like safety. Security.

You stayed like that for a long while, just taking in each other, relaxing completely in his hold. The warmth from his skin soaked into you, making you drowsy, sagging into his grip until he was nearly completely holding you up. Coming back to yourself, you shifted, putting your weight back onto your own two feet, and broke the hug. You shivered as your torso suddenly felt about ten degrees colder.

“Sorry for leaning on you.” You whispered, affection and warmth making you dizzy and fuzzy.

“‘S alright, I don’t mind.” Crowley mumbled back, hands shifting to tuck into his pockets. You patted his arm, and started to walk towards your lobby, turning around one last time to say goodbye.

Crowley had already gotten into the Bentley, but didn’t take off just yet. You waved at him from the doors, smiling as you said goodbye.

“See ya’ later! Don’t forget, we have to schedule that video game thing!” You couldn’t hear Crowley’s reply over the screeching of the Bentley’s tires as he sped away, zooming down the street and turning at the corner. Your smile fell, and you headed back inside, getting to your apartment as quick as you could.

Immediately shedding your clothes and falling into the sheets, you let out a relaxed sigh. Grabbing a blanket to curl your body around, you took a deep breath of the cool air your fan was blowing in your face. As you drifted off, you realized that you could still smell Crowley’s scent on you, making falling asleep quicker and easier.

Though you would barely remember it in the morning, you dreamed of Aziraphale and Crowley holding you, Crowley’s voice gently singing in your ear as you pressed kisses to their skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> crowley was TOTALLY checkin out reader's ass. just so u know.  
> dude, everyone is crushing SO hard on each other. its so gay im losin it
> 
> i miiiiiight include nsfw chapters in the future, so i'll put a warning in the chapter title if i write it lol
> 
> anyways thank you so much for the comments!!!!! leave more and tell me what u want to see in future chapters!!!! i'll see what i can do ;3 <3 <3 <3


	3. Morning Admiration (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have heard your prayers, and you may rejoice, for i do believe this is the best smut ive ever written.
> 
> this started off as a quick, before bed 300 word drabble about how much reader loved aziraphale. three hours and 2k words later, ive dug myself into a rabbit hole i cannot fix.
> 
> anyways, enjoy!!! gotta update the tags now, lol. also, follow me on twitter!! thats where im going to be posting all of my dumb writing complaints, and if u wanna chat come talk to me there! idk how to make links not look ugly, so whoops. (its rlly new so i dont have a lot on there atm, plus im more active on tumblr)
> 
> https://twitter.com/gaygxnji

Aziraphale was, as you called him nearly every day, absolutely adorable. You admired nearly everything he did, from the way he turned the next page on an engaging book, to the face he’d make whenever you or Crowley showered him with kindness and affection. But, right now, stretched across the bed, he looked different. _Was_ different. The golden cracks that ran across his nude body, nearly glowing in the morning light. The look on his face as he gazed into the dawn from the window, serious and relaxed all at once, all knowing and powerful.

Aziraphale looked _ethereal_.

After taking in his image like a parched beast to a fresh spring pond, you slowly reached out to his otherworldly body. You trailed your fingertips across the cracks in his skin, vibrating slightly underneath your touch and making the warmth of euphoria soak into your core. He turned his heavenly gaze upon you, and your very being alighted in bliss from his attention alone.

You basked in his aura, letting the gentle waves of angelic influence push and pull you, tugging your soul whichever way he wished for you to go. And you would always follow, willingly and eager to please this divine being, this _angel_ . Aziraphale could ask anything in the world of you, and you’d do it. You’d lie if he asked. You’d harm if he asked. You’d steal and maim and _kill_ simply to please him.

Aziraphale never asked any of that from you. The only thing he’d ever truly asked you for was _love_ and _commitment_ , both of which you gave freely, in mounting heaps that pleased you as much as it did him. You’d give him everything you could offer and more, if only he wished it.

You whispered this to him, as you traced his fissures, pressing gentle kisses along his collarbone. Your mouth traveled along his skin, lavishing his body in unspoken praise, leaving promises in their wake. Fingers dug into his soft spots, where he was round and squishy, evidence of his earthly indulgences. You licked and bit and marked every inch, making it clear that his excess was loved, and that his body was absolutely captivating to you no matter the shape.

You _worshipped_ God’s angel in your bed, stroking and sucking and crooning sweet nothings into his ear until he _came_ , moaning and wailing with the sensations you wrought upon his body. His his hands were clenched in the sheets, and as he shuddered, the light seeping through the rifts in his flesh brightened, and for a moment you were blinded.

Aziraphale lay, panting and sweating and still giving little moans that sent arousal straight to your core, on your sheets, still looking very much like the celestial being he was. Your fingers still rubbed at his skin, the glowing lines cascading around his chest and barely touching his neck, sent sparks of pleasure rushing through you. However, instead of seeking your own pleasure, you simply lounged on the bed in admiration of the beautiful image that lay before you. Your hands came up to rub his face, tracing the lines with gentle, practiced ease. You spread your legs as you got closer, balancing across his body as you admired more of his physical form.

The two of you sat in silence, and you were so engrossed in observing the halo of purity around Aziraphale that you didn’t hear the rhythmic clicking of shined shoes on the floor, didn’t hear the sharp intake of breath. It was only when you felt hot fingers rub against your entrance, slick and terribly sinful, that you realized who had come in, and caught you and his other loved post-coitus. His hands grabbed at your hips, pulling you off Aziraphale and towards him, letting his fingers tease by dipping in and out of you.

The noise that escaped you was best described as depraved, and the dark chuckle that followed it shot molten arousal to your heat. Crowley snapped his fingers, and you felt his finger slide in you at the same time his hard, naked cock pressed against your ass. Pleasure _exploded_ within you, moaning loudly and calling out Crowley’s name with a shout, and you suddenly needed him inside you _right now_. He ground against you in tight, hard circles, little whimpers escaping you as his finger explored you, filling you, but just too small to be enough.

By the time he added a third finger, the miracled lube stretching you and making you dripping wet, you were ready to take him, fisting the sheets and letting out lewd sounds that made your face flush red. His fingers teased against your sweet spot, curling against the spongy flesh in just the right spot that made you _scream_ , coming with a long, drawn out wail of Crowley’s name.

You heard him _growl_ behind you, fingers digging into your hips as he pulled his digits out and guided his cock to your entrance, rubbing the wet, sultry head against you.

“Mmm, such a _good_ little thing you are,” Crowley crooned, “Pleasuring our precious angel, making him _cum_ like you did.” You moaned in reply, desperately trying to push your hips against his cock. He shushed you, petting his hands along your sides, whispering calming phrases against your skin as he slowly pushed inside.

The stretch of his cock around your opening nearly made you cum again, the thread of discomfort buried deep inside of you barely holding you back. He pressed against your walls, thick and heavy with blood. His own vile sounds mixed with your own as he started to thrust, hissing and moaning as he pressed himself further inside of your hole. He went slow and easy, dragging his cock along your walls and delighting on how it made you whine.

Then, Crowley started to _really_ fuck you, harshly pulling out and slamming back in, setting a brutal pace that made you screech, hands clenching the sheets tighter and tighter. It was too much, the feeling of his hard, blazing cock fucking into you, the sound of your own voice ringing in your ears, the headboard of the bed hitting the wall with a steady, rocking groan. Just barely, over the cacophony, you could hear Crowley moaning Aziraphale’s name.

The angels hands came to rest on your own, and you opened your eyes to find him gazing down upon you, cock already hard and leaking again. You tried to push yourself forward, meaning to take it into your mouth again, but Aziraphale just pushed you back. He shook his head, and laid a hand on his own cock inches from your face, tentatively starting to give light, little strokes.

“It is alright, dear.” He whispered to you, his other hand coming up to gently pet your sweat-damp hair. “Let me and Crowley take care of you now.”

You sobbed for him, the ache of Crowley pushing into you overwhelming with pleasure. Aziraphale simply rubbed your face with his hand, stroking himself harder as your cries got louder and louder. “Sweet darling,” he cooed, “Just keep looking at me. You’ve done such a good job, taking care of us, it’s about time we return the favor.”

You grit your teeth and whined long and loud, Crowley’s hips slapping against yours with a force that would surely leave bruises in the morning. But the miracled arousal running through your veins wouldn’t allow you to feel pain, and all it did was make you clench around him.

You were nearing your peak, and yet you still couldn’t cum. You mewled Crowley’s name, feeling his hand come to rest on the side of your face, intertwining with Aziraphales. “Tell usss what you need, sweetheart. We’ll take care of you.” Crowley demanded, affection betraying the nature of his order. It made you shiver, hand coming up to hold theirs, still getting fucked raw.

“Please,” you croak, voice shaky and broken from overuse, “...please cum in me. Please cum on me!” The last word you squealed, feeling Crowley loose his pace, fucking you even harder and faster than before. Aziraphale stroked himself harder, gasping lightly as his hand loudly slapped against his skin. They were emitting all sorts of delicious sounds, and you soaked each and every one up.

“Oh, I’ll cum in you, all right.” Crowley hissed in your ear, voice vile and dripping with arousal. “I’ll fill you up nicce and pretty, and I’ll make you _sssscream_ , make you cum around my cock- oh, _fuck_!” Crowley swore, and you felt the scorching, unholy splatter of demon cum fill your insides. It was much too hot, the hellfire inside of him igniting and setting every bit of his soul aflame.

But when Aziraphale called your name, softly and delicately, you looked up at the angel, and locked eyes. He radiated light, shining through the cracks and filling the spaces of the room that wasn’t crowded with demonic energy. Once again, you were consumed by the whole of him, his holy aura surrounding you, making you closer and closer to release. Then he leaned forward, gripping himself tightly, and whispered to you, words leaking into your very soul. “ _Cum for me, my love_.”

Your orgasm overtook you, and you felt _nothing_ but white-hot pleasure, your whole body shaking with the force. It overtook you like a tsunami, violently rolling through you, tearing you apart and putting you back together again in the best of ways. Your thighs shook, mouth coming open in a silent cry, very nearly blacking out. You barely registered the warm sensation of cum on your face, the ringing voice of Aziraphale as he spent himself all over you.

Crowley slowly pulled out, cum dribbling out of your hole. He gently rolled you onto your side, and then snuggled in beside you. Aziraphale took you both by the armpits and dragged you both up, letting your face rest on one side of his chest and Crowley on the other. It took several minutes of panting before anyone was able to move again, exhausted by all the activity.

Crowley opened his eyes first, pupils dilating as he took in the sight of you resting, angelic cum dribbling down your face. He grinned, delighted by the fact that Aziraphale had not immediately miracled you all clean, usually the least tired and the one unable to stand messes. His long, serpentine tongue snaked out to brush against your cheek, savoring the taste of the angels cum. He slowly trailed it up and down your face, cheeks and chin now coated in warm saliva. When he was done, he gave a small hiss before diving in to properly kiss you.

Much too tired to kiss back, you simply settled for pressing your lips against his. Crowley immediately took the hint, relaxing his lips against yours and kissing you, closed mouthed and intimate. Aziraphale’s hands ran through you and Crowley’s hair, always soft, always gentle. Crowley broke away from you to kiss Aziraphale, and you caught his tongue slipping into the angel’s mouth.

You watched them take each other in, kissing deeply, passionately, filled with six thousand years of infatuation. You’d never have exactly what they had with each other, but you strived to come close. You loved them more than anybody else you’d ever met, and you pushed that affection into every single thing you did for them. Every kiss, every favor, every time you went out of your way, every loving embrace filled with your passion.

Aziraphale and Crowley parted, flushed and captivated within each other. You reached out to stroke their arms, and they both turned to you, eyes shining with that same absolute love. You nearly cried underneath their gaze, emotional from the haze of the afterglow. Despite yourself, your eyes welled up from the force of your love, and Aziraphale’s thumb came up to wipe the corner of your eye, wiping away the tears that threatened to escape. He smiled, easy and divine.

He sat up, the morning light illuminating his figure. Aziraphale moved towards you, Crowley reaching out to adjust your body until you were flat on your back, the angel’s head now level with your opening. Crowley’s cum was still leaking out in thick rivulets, hot and warming your insides in a way that you’d only felt after he fucked you raw and good. The angels tongue came to lick it up, tracing his tongue until it met with your heat.

Aziraphale ate you out nice and slow, dipping his tongue in and out to collect as much of the demon’s essence as he could, drinking it down with little swallows. His fingers came up to help gather the rest of Crowley’s seed, crooking in just the right spots to make you weakly clench around them. The influenced arousal was slowly fading from you, but was still present enough to make your peak come closer, quicker. With every flick, every suck, every adoring kiss pressed into you, the soft, warm pleasure in your gut grew. Crowley was pressing sweet kisses into your hairline, fingers tracing the edge of your jaw. He was furiously jerking himself, hard and fast to keep up with you, chasing his own peak as Aziraphale pushed your own.

When you came, it was soft, not at all wildly intense and exausing from earlier. You spread out into the sheets, panting and making sweet little sighs, body relaxed under Aziraphale’s grip. You looked over as Crowley gave a choked groan, fist beating hard and fast until he smoothed out, cum spurting out of his tip and across his chest.

This time, nobody was in the mood to clean up. Crowley lifted his fingers and snapped, the fluids on his body vanishing as if they were never there in the first place. Your hair suddenly felt lighter, and you made a face as you realized there must have been cum in it. The demon huffed a small laugh, and leaned forward to give you a last, lingering kiss, giving Aziraphale the same treatment. The angel smiled at him, and then moved to scoop you into his arms, your bones weak and legs too shaky to hold yourself up.

“I think,” Aziraphale began softly, “that we are all in need of a good bath and some relaxation.” Crowley grinned from where he was trailing beside you, hips moving with his usual sway.

“Now angel, I though we’ve already had some _relaxation_.” It was followed with a saucy grin and a wink, which Aziraphale simply rolled his eyes at. You giggled, soft and docile from your orgasms. The angel passed you to Crowley, before waving his hand in the general direction of the absolutely enormous bathtub the three of you owned. It immediately began to fill, the water steaming and smelling faintly of vanilla.

The three of you bathed each other, caressing each person with luxury soaps and affectionate touches. You traced your fingers in the water, hair being massaged by Aziraphale and your back being massaged by Crowley, the water cleaning the sweat and oil that had built up over the night and into the morning.

By the time the three of you got out, your fingers were pruned and wrinkly. You were toweled off by your lovers, and dressed by them. You shook them off when it was time for you to go make breakfast, and they retired to the couch, settling into the cushions wrapped around each other. You suspected that Crowley was going to fall asleep within the first five minutes.

You pieced together a breakfast of pancakes, making coffee for your partners. Crowley took his black with two sugars, and Aziraphale with two creams and three sugars. You didn’t drink coffee, having given up the habit when you found out it interfered with your growth. Instead, you made yourself a small cup of rose tea, and brought out everyone’s plates.

Meals on the couch was an affair you all enjoyed, even having little trays resting on the arm of the couch. Aziraphale miracled the plates and trays into their respective positions as you settled into the couch, waking up Crowley with light kisses scattered across his face. Immediately grabbing the remote as the only one of two people who bothered to use the TV half of the time, you navigated to Netflix and set up a calming nature documentary. It was the only thing all three of you could tolerate watching together, aside from the occasional rom-com.

You settled into the couch, mouth full of soft, sugary pancake, and snuggled between your lovers with a contented sigh. They pet your hair and praised you on your cooking, Aziraphale even sneaking bites of yours, despite knowing you weren’t going to finish the rest of it. The morning light cascaded through the windows, and a feeling of true, real happiness settled inside of your chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!!!!! hey!!!!!!! thank you so much for leaving comments!!! i read EACH and EVERY single one of them and they all make me smile!!!!!!!! so big and wide and every single word just FUELS me to write more shit. this might just be my highest rated fanfic!!! and thats all thanks to yall so!!!!! 
> 
> that being said, im probably gonna take some time before i reply, i have a lot of shit going on and im very depressed, along with being very shitty at communication. also!! let me know if you want to see something in paticular, i might write it!!! definitely if you guys ask, lol <3
> 
> so yeah, comment!!!! i love them all, im actually going to print out my favorite ones soon and hang them up in a picture frame on my wall :3 (it’ll most likely be every single fucking comment ive ever gotten soooo)


	4. On the Inside (TW: Panic Attacks)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdy!! before you begin reading, i'd like to mention some trigger warnings for this chapter.  
> TW for: panic attacks, frustrated crowley
> 
> in this chapter, reader lands somewhere on the adhd/autism spectrum. its up to you to interpret it, i simply wrote it from my experiences as someone who has adhd and stims. if you don't have adhd/autism, this would be a great way to see what the big deal about stimming is! reader also has anxiety, and depression if you squint. as always, crowley and aziraphale kiss it all away <3 so be careful as you read!!! skip to the bottom if all you're looking for is some fluff, bc theres always some good shit in this <3

The music pounds through the Bentley, vibrating the whole car with it. You’d convinced Crowley to get a new stereo for his car by constantly talking about how your old car would vibrate with the bass. You and Crowley are shrieking along with the music, singing as best (or worst) as you can, and dancing in your seats.

It started out with a simple drive. You’d been extremely upset, coming home sobbing, hands making fists in your hair and taking short, breathless gasps. But you held yourself together, only being upset in the way normal people were, only crying a little and only putting your hands into fists by your side when you walked through the door. Aziraphale suggested that Crowley took you for a ride, something that always seemed to calm you down. He’d refused to play any sort of sad music, and instead played the most energetic Queen songs he had, and breaking the speed limit by nearly thirty miles. Over the music, you’d barely heard him shout, “The best way to get rid of any feelings, is to  _ pump them out _ . Loudly!” And he was right.

The world shook, the Bentley vibrating so hard you were sure it was only held together by Crowley’s demonic magic. The bass made your brain shake and your stomach hurt, but the effect it had on your mental state was unparalleled, the entire earth falling away under the familiar melodies. The car seemed to dance with you, moving along the road in a way that felt slightly different from how it normally did.

You were moving hard and fast, unsure when you were dancing and when you were stimming. Your feet kicked the air, shoulders swaying side to side as fast as they could. Your arms were wrapped around each other, torso swaying with the rest of your body. The music was so deafening that you felt safe verbally stimming, shouting and gurgling and humming as loud as you could. The song grew in tempo, and you along with it, your entire body twisting and moving, the euphoria that came with the actions rushing through you.

The climax of the song dropped, and you  _ shrieked _ along with it, forgetting yourself as your hands came out, flapping wildly, leaping in your seat. You screamed the lyrics, ignoring how to sing and just going with the loudest way you could express this happiness. The world melted into elation and excitement, your body jerking and twisting as you moved. The music  _ thrummed _ through you, and your entire self felt at one with the beat, fingers wiggling and head shaking.

The song cut out, ending as it always did, abruptly and suddenly. You were panting, more than a little nauseous but exhilarated, hands gripping the side of the Bentley as hard as they could. A softer, gentler song began to play, and you swayed with it without realizing. Then you remembered where you were, and  _ who you were in the car with _ .

Your head whipped around, and Crowley was staring at you, eyebrows raised but otherwise impassive behind the sunglasses that suddenly seemed to consume his entire face. You stared, and remembered every single stim you just did. Flapping, screaming, wildly twisting in your seat. You must have looked insane.

Tears started to well in your eyes, and whatever misery you were in before this car ride came back tenfold. You were paralyzed, tears falling rapidly, eyes widening and you could physically  _ feel _ the panic attack slam into you, your hands beginning to shake. You weren’t breathing, and all you could comprehend was the terror rushing through you.

Crowley swore, swerved the car and parked on the side of the road. Your entire body was shaking, and now you were gasping for air, and it all hit you as Crowley looked at you again. Your hands came up to clench your hair, entire body curling in on itself. You squeezed your eyes shut, wheezing desperately. 

You didn’t want Crowley to look at you. 

You never wanted Crowley or Aziraphale to see you like this.

Like somebody who was  _ messy _ . 

Like somebody who always needed  _ help _ . 

Like somebody who was  _ strange _ and did things normal people  _ didn’t _ .

But that was you, and you  _ hated _ it.

You choked and sobbed, the entire earth shattering around you. Your vision was black, from curling up into a ball or from the tunnel vision you didn’t know. You couldn’t know, your entire mind shattering into pieces. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, you needed somewhere to hide where Crowley couldn’t see you, couldn't realize you weren’t  _ normal _ . You desperately wanted to scream, to thrash and run your nails down the side of your face, but that would make everything worse, and the parts of you battled as you shook.

You could hear Crowley’s voice in your ears, and it made you wheeze harder. You couldn’t understand what he was saying, and you didn’t want to, didn’t want to hear the anger and disappointment coming through him. 

The hand on your back you didn’t expect, and it made you jump, shaking harder. It stroked you slowly, hesitantly, and you just barely leaned into it. Arms encircled you, warm and heavy and blissfully  _ dark _ . It took you a few seconds, but the realization that it was Crowley hugging you, petting your hair and whispering in hushed tones made you start sobbing, voice actually coming out in hoarse, depraved cries.

The new song came through the Bentley, slow beat pounding through you. It was one of the songs you listened to late at night, one of the songs you’d tilted your head back to and let your mind become erased in the feeling. It built up slowly, the repetitive tune and Crowley’s gentle comfort soothing your frazzled nerves. Once the drop hit, you relaxed, uncurling, flopping back into the seat as best you could.

Crowley followed, releasing you long enough for you to lay out before sliding over you, half covering your torso. The pressure, the music, the soft words still echoing from Crowley’s lips alleviate your panic, leaving you empty and exhausted. The tear stains on your face were kissed away, thumb rubbing over your cheekbones. Your hands came up to grasp at the demon’s jacket, shakily hanging on as the last of your attack left you.

You sighed, tension flooding out of you, eyes still closed. Crowley relaxed on top of you, stilling, laying his head on your chest. The song played on repeat, echoing in your mind and soothing your soul. But it soon turned repetitive instead of relaxing, and you called out to the Bentley.

“Please change the song.” Without Crowley touching the dial, the song immediately changed, and Crowley looked confused. You gave a tired smile, patting the door of the Bentley. “Thank you.” Your voice was croaky and warbled, evidence of your exhaustion. Crowley got off of you, and you realized that he’d taken off his sunglasses. Molten amber stared into you, and you realized you couldn’t see the whites of his eyes, completely blotted out by his irises. 

The two of you relaxed into your seats, both staring out the windshield as Crowley started the car, maneuvering the vehicle back onto the road. He drove slowly, only going ten miles above the speed limit. You stared out the window, and stopped yourself from patting your legs even though you so desperately needed it. You didn’t want him to see you like that again. 

“I’m sorry.” You blurted, suddenly, about fifteen minutes into the drive back home. Crowley looked over to you, his sunglasses back on and his expression impassive. You looked away and continued.

“For all that. Stuff.” Your voice choked up, and you shoved it down unsuccessfully, hating how just a few words made you so messed up. “I never wanted you to see me like that.”

“Like what.” Crowley’s voice was neither harsh nor comforting, and fear choked you for a brief second. You blinked your tears away, and summoned every ounce of strength left in you body to continue.

“Like someone who isn’t. Normal. Like other people are.” Now you start to cry, voice warbling and words barely discernible. “I never wanted you to see me like I am. On the inside.” Emotions are back, and are storming through you like soldiers at the gate to your great castle. “I know I’m messy. I know I’m fucked up inside, and I’m sorry that I dragged you into this-” you sob, “this bullshit. I’m sorry.”

The car stops again, this time in the middle of the road. You’re still far enough into the countryside to encounter any other cars, but it still makes you worry. Until Crowley is leaning over again, twisting in his seat to look at you. His hands are gripping the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

“Lisssten to me,” he hisses, “You are not  _ fucked up _ . You did not  _ drag _ usss into thisss.” He takes off his sunglasses again, and this time you can see his whites fade away, snake eyes taking over. “And I don’t want to hear another word of it. We picked you because we fucking fell in love with you, sweetheart, and we’re not just going to drop you off on the side of the road because you’re ‘fucked up’.” He makes quotation marks in the air with his fingers, eyebrows furrowed, mouth turned into a frown. It makes fear shoot through you, and you hate it.

Then his expression changes, becoming softer, the hard lines of his anger giving way to something gentle. “Me and Aziraphale, we love you. You’re like no one we’ve met before, not in six thousand years. We’re not going to give you up, sweetheart. Not if you’re weird, not if you don’t move like ‘normal’ people do.” The air quotes are back again, and you tear up with emotion, relief and love shooting through you like a bullet.

The Bentley starts to play another song, sweet and smooth and everything you needed. Crying again, you fall into Crowley’s arms, clutching onto him like he’s the last thing in the world. He might just be. 

Crowley’s pressing kisses into your hair, rubbing his hands along your back and squeezing you into his chest, the scent enveloping you in a state of calm. You’re sobbing ‘I love you’s into his chest, petting your hands along his back, scraping your nails along the fabric. You stay for a while, letting him love you, repeating sweet nothings into your very soul. It's only when he moves away, tilting your head up to kiss you, tender and soft, that you feel whole again.

When you part, the Bentley humming along the road again, Crowley speaks again. His voice is quiet, still with the same delicate tone from earlier. “When we get home, we’re gonna have to have a talk with Aziraphale about… all of this.” He stares into the windshield, the streets morphing into London, speeding up to dart between cars. “He should know. He loves you too.”

You take a deep breath, shakily letting it all out in one slow rush. The music in the car has morphed into the Minecraft soundtrack, and you pat the side of the Bentley, a smile gracing your lips. “Yeah,” you exhale, “I guess we should.”




Aziraphale is ready when you come home. He’s already got mugs of tea on the table, all made to each individual preference. You talk for what feels like hours, years worth of bottled up emotions spilling out in one night. Once you start, it feels like a dam has broken within you, and suddenly you can’t  _ stop _ talking, no matter how much you cry.

You talk about how you stim, about how much you hate doing it in public but how much joy it brings you nonetheless. You fume about your anxiety, how it chokes you and makes you feel like everyone is watching you, all the time, how you can’t do anything that isn’t  _ normal _ , but everything you do feels  _ not normal _ . You mourn about how you regret being so open, about hating being an open book because you share too much, too quickly. You seethe about how you’re so angry, all the time, about how you have such hateful thoughts inside even though you don’t want to have them.

They hug you through it, sitting on either side, listening as you choke and cry your way through everything. When you’re done, relaxed into the cushions, tear tracks dried by Aziraphale’s handkerchief, you feel even more exhausted than you did earlier that day.

Aziraphale rubs your forehead, and leans to press a light kiss into the side of your head. Crowley’s gone to refill your mugs, and you miss his calming weight. The demon wanders back into the room, setting more tea in front of you all, and lounging back into the couch, throwing an arm around you and Aziraphale as best he can. You snuggle into his warmth, face still pointed towards the angel, letting him smooth kisses along your cheeks.

“How long have you kept that in, dearest?” Aziraphale murmurs into your skin, and you take a deep breath. You think back, and back, and back, then by the time you realize the answer, both angel and demon are staring at you with apprehension.

“A while. A really, really long while. I can’t even remember how long.” You’re too tired, too drained to really have any sort of emotional reaction, but Crowley and Aziraphale do it for you, the angel letting out a gentle ‘oh, dear’ and smoothing your hair for the thousandth time. Crowley kisses your ear, tickling the hair around it.

“That’s okay, sweetheart.” Crowley hums, pressing his face against your head. “I don’t remember a lot of stuff, nowadays.” You know he’s alluding to something else, but that’s a conversation for another time. Instead, you stretch out, making a little noise when your back cracks. You give each of them a long, loving kiss, hugging each with all the strength you have in your body.

“‘M tired. Mind if I just sleep here?” You mumble, eyes drooping. Aziraphale nods, and Crowley gets up so you can reposition yourself. Soon, your head is resting in the angel’s lap, while Crowley cuddles you from the front, his face pressed into your neck. Your back is squished against the couch cushions, and a thick blanket is draped around you. You grunt and squirm, both Crowley and the blanket is too hot, and you’re getting overstimulated. Crowley reaches up and snaps his fingers, and suddenly the ceiling fan is on and it’s  _ freezing _ in the room.

The TV suddenly flips on with Crowley’s snap, already on a show that only Aziraphale watches. It’s too boring for you, but Aziraphale loves it, so you’ll suffer an episode or two if he wants you to watch it. Aziraphale leans down to give Crowley a thank you kiss, the demon scooching up to peck his angel. He snuggles back down under the blanket, pressing kisses into your neck and collarbone, slowing until his entire body goes lax. You close your eyes, and let all the sensations come to you. The heat of Crowley next to you, arms circled around your waist. The squish of Aziraphale’s thighs underneath your head, soft and comfy. The weight of the blanket, the monotone of the TV, the  _ darkness _ surrounding you, all culminates to make that ultimate peace settle in your chest. You’re empty and tired, but so full of comfort and love that when you fall asleep, it comes easy and gentle. 

When you dream, it’s full of gentle wings, dark as night and light as clouds, taking you through the skies. The fires of Hell burn below you, the embers landing on your legs and burning your skin. Each one is kissed away by a being with dark scales and molten eyes. The perfection of Heaven shines above you, blinding and constricting in all it’s emptiness. You’re shaded from the brightness by something with thousands of wings and too many eyes. But neither of them scare you. Instead, they take your hands, and guide you between the earth and the stars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!!! i hope yall enjoyed it, especially all of my adhd/autism folks!!! 
> 
> like i say every chapter, i LOVE all of my comments!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the ones i got last chapter were just, fuckign,,,, *chefs kiss* perfection. every one of them. so make sure not to just comment on my fic, but all the ones you particularly enjoy!!! all authors love comments, even if its just like, a keysmash we all fuckin adore it!!!!!!! 
> 
> ive also decided that every third chapter will be nsfw, so look forward to chapter six ;3 go check out my tumblr and drop some ideas into my inbox!!!! if i dont write it in here, i'll definitely write it out there <3 my dumbass still has no fucking clue how to turn text into links, so yall have to copy paste :P
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gay-gxnji


	5. What Makes You Think of Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
> 
> i had my second writers block for like EVER and i have like. four other wips. but!!!!!!!!! this is roughly ten pages of my blood, sweat and tears!!! i would also like to mention that pretty much all of my /readers have the reader display some sort of neurodivergent behavior, with stimming and such. this is because i write these based off of my personal experiences, and i myself am neurodivergent. so keep that in mind if reader does 'odd' stuff!!!
> 
> hope you enjoy!! i'll Scream in the end comments lol

The afternoon sun streamed through the apartment, casting shadows in dark corners and showering Crowley’s plants with light. You relaxed on the couch, a dark, beautiful thing that you’d convinced Crowley to buy after chattering about couches for an hour. It wasn’t as plush as you’d like it to be, but it was still new, after all.

Crowley and Aziraphale had gone on a date early in the day, and you’d chosen to stay home, not feeling mentally well enough to go outside. They’d left you with a kiss and a promise to be back before dinnertime, and you’d settled into a relaxing day at home. At first, you’d simply relaxed in for a long Minecraft session, letting the nostalgia and repetition of the game soothe your frazzled mind. But by lunchtime you’d grown stagnant in your chair, and were starting to miss your lovers terribly. Thus, you simply slipped on one of Crowley’s sweaters, and picked out something to read.

The book grasped in your hands was a first edition of Walt Whitman, something Aziraphale had gotten you for your birthday. You weren’t one for reading books anymore, more often attached to reading fanfiction online. But queer poets always kept your attention, and you rather liked Whitman’s stuff. You were nearly through  _ Leaves of Grass _ , and even though you couldn’t understand the poem at times, it was a fun read. 

Down the hall, the front door came open with a small noise. It made you perk up from your seat, bookmarking your page and setting it down on the coffee table. The voices of Aziraphale and Crowley echoed across the flat, and your muscles relaxed from tension you didn’t know you were holding. You padded your way across the flat towards the kitchen, where you caught sight of Aziraphale putting a white box into the fridge, and Crowley putting some gift bags on the counter. You smiled, easy and relaxed, a warmth like no other filling you at the sight of them.

“...and nobody else seemed to notice, which I found a little odd. Oh, here angel, let me get that for you.” Crowley said, moving to take off Aziraphale’s jacket. The angel let the fabric slide off of his shoulders, and gave Crowley that in-love look you’d seen him have ever since you met them. Only now, Crowley knew what it was, and moved to kiss it off his face. When they parted, Aziraphale’s hand came up to cup Crowley’s face, eyes twinkling with affection.

“Thank you, dear.” Aziraphale nearly whispered, leaning forward to give Crowley another kiss. You leaned against the doorway and simply watched your partners be so ridiculously in love with each other. Crowley was the first one to notice you, and he grinned, sauntering over to sweep you into a hug. 

“Hey there, sweetheart! Well, don’t you look nice in that sweater! That’s mine, isn’t it?” He grinned, snakelike grin spreading across his face. You squeezed him back, and then squealed as he picked you up, swinging you around. You clung to his shoulders, and when he set you down you didn’t get a moment’s rest before he was stealing a kiss from you. You laughed into it, and broke away after a few short seconds to leap over to Aziraphale, tugging him into a kiss too. The angel made a startled sound, and you heard Crowley chuckle behind you. You kiss Aziraphale’s cheek, and then hug him tightly.

“I missed you guys.” You said, burying your face into Aziraphale’s chest, taking in his scent of vanilla and old books. His arms wrapped around you, safe and secure. He rubbed your back, and you snuggled further into him. 

“We missed you too. A pity you couldn’t come with us, dear.” Aziraphale mumbled against the top of your head, pressing a small kiss into your hair. You broke away regretfully, and leaned against the counter, eyeing the gift bags.

“How was your date? Was it fun or was it-” You made a scrunched up face and tilted your hand in a so-so motion. Crowley took off his glasses, yellow eyes no less startling than when you first saw them.

“It was alright. Aziraphale decided to coo at the ducks for an hour after lunch, and then we went shopping. Oh, we got you some presents.” He motioned towards the gift bags on the counter, and then ambled down the hall. “I’m gonna go change. I’ll be back ‘inna second.”

You eyed the bags, looking to Aziraphale, who was in the middle of unbuttoning his vest. He looked back to you, and smiled. “Well, I think you best get on with opening them. Crowley was quite excited about a few of them, you see.” The grin spit your face, and your hands fluttered by your sides.

“Nah, I’ll just wait for him to come back. I know he likes watching me open them. Oh, hey, I’ve been reading  _ Leaves of Grass _ and I was wondering what your opinion is on the whole thing?” Aziraphale looked at you, eyes bright and twinkling.

“Oh, you’ve been reading the book I gave you! Well, you see, I do believe…”

The two of you chattered, waiting for Crowley to get back from changing again. By the time the demon sauntered back in, you and Aziraphale were spread out on the couch, analyzing lines from your book. He had changed into a thin sweater and dark sweatpants, and was clutching a second, noticeably whiter set of clothes under his arm. He leaped onto the couch, grinning as you shot into the air a good six inches. You shrieked in startled laughter, clutching onto the demon and shaking him as you hugged him tightly. 

“Crowley! You jackass!” You laughed, before clutching his face, giving him a quick, excitement filled kiss. He rubbed your hair, before tossing Aziraphale the clothes he’d gathered for him.

You had implemented a rule some time ago that if Crowley and/or Aziraphale were to cuddle with you, they had to change into more comfortable clothes. You’d gotten tired of snuggling with skinny jeans and suits, the texture being too rough for you to rest on. They had argued with you for a bit, until they tried it themselves when you refused to cuddle with them.

Aziraphale excuses himself to the bathroom to change, and you’re left with Crowley, who heaves out a sigh, spreading himself out on the couch. He looks at you, hand coming up to rub your cheek. In the beginning of your relationship with them, both angel and demon had been hesitant with physical affection. Now that you’ve all been with each other for some time, they’ve unfolded, and instead of shying away from your touch they now lean into it.

“Hey, where's all the stuff we got you?” Crowley sniffs, peering around the living room. “You open it already?” You shake your head, patting your thighs with your hands.

“No, they’re still in the kitchen! I’ll go get them!” You grinned, hopping of the seat as quick as you could, your mind doing the exciting racetrack of  _ Presents! Presents! Presents! _ You grab the gift bags and dart back, flying onto the couch just in time to squeeze between a lounging Crowley and a much more comfortably dressed Aziraphale. Carefully setting the bags on the table, you pick one and go for it.

You take the item out, delicately, and roll it over in your hands. It’s a small bottle of obviously expensive perfume, and you can see little flecks of glitter floating around in the liquid. You bring it up to your nose, taking in the scent. It smells light and floral, like the way the color pink tastes. It reminds you of roses, and you rub your thumb over the label, feeling the imprints of the letters under your touch. You turn to your lovers, excited.

“I love it! It smells so nice, so pretty.” You hum the rest of your sentence, and move on to the next prizes. Crowley and Aziraphale were materialistic in their own way, but there wasn’t much you could give them, given both of them liked ridiculously expensive things. Aziraphale loved his antique books, and Crowley loved his designer wear. Thus, you simply let them shower  _ you _ with presents, and in turn you gave them all the love you had to spare.

The rest of the presents were both beautiful and thoughtful. A pair of shoes that would miraculously fit you perfectly, a new set of makeup brushes that had shimmery handles, and a copy of Sylvia Plath’s works that Aziraphale promised to go over with you later. Finally, the last bag remained, and both Aziraphale and Crowley looked excited. Aziraphale’s eyes kept flitting between you and the bag, and Crowley had that small grin on his face that he had whenever he gave a particularly vicious miracle.

You reached out for the bag, this one a plain brown bag, no label or anything. You carefully removed the tissue paper, and lifted up what was inside. You gasped, whipping around, clutching the box to your chest. “Really! Like, really really?”

Crowley laughed, arm tightening from where it was slung around Aziraphale. The angel smiled brightly, hand coming up to clutch at Crowley’s. “Well,” Aziraphale began, “with how much you talked about that show, we thought it would be a nice little gift.”

In your hands was a collector’s edition of the Sailor Moon 30th anniversary Princess Serenity and Prince Endymion ballpoint pens, each beautiful and sparkly. You carefully removed the Prince Endymion pen from the packing, and ran it over in your fingers, unscrewing the cap so you could test the pen itself. You turned to pass the pen over to your lovers, picking up the Princess Serenity one with careful hands. Admiring the pen, you touched the top of the pen, where the silver crystal was artfully done. 

“It is quite beautiful…” Aziraphale said, passing the pen back to you. You carefully put both pens back into their packaging, and then twisted your body to envelop your lovers in the biggest hug you possibly could.

Your face squished between their chests, the combined scent putting the ever-present anxiety inside you at ease. “Thank you!” You sang between them, feeling the excitement and happiness well up, your body starting to wiggle. They hugged you tightly, letting you express your happiness as you practically vibrated in place. “Where did you find something like that?”

“Oh, well, there is a collectors shop a few streets down from that lovely sushi place, and we simply popped in for a visit.” Aziraphale explained, rubbing his hand along your back. Crowley chuckled, the sound smooth against your ears.

“You mean you intimidated the guy into letting us buy them.” Crowley grinned, and you looked up to see Aziraphale pout. 

“I did no such thing!” His rebuttal made you giggle, shoving your head back down into the darkness. The three of you stayed like that, until you remembered the mess on the table, leaping back up to your feet. You began to gather the mess up, separating the trash from your gifts. Gathering all of the presents in your arms, you carefully carried them to your bedroom, setting each thing where they needed to go. Perfume went into the bathroom, shoes into the closet, makeup brushes with your other stim toys, and pens onto your collectible shelf, next to the other Sailor Moon items. You admired them all, gazing between the other items you owned, consumed with the memories of obtaining each one. Evidently, you’d been gone a second too long, because Crowley’s voice calling your name startled you out of your daze. You raced back to the living room, where the bags and other trash had already been disposed of, your lovers reclining on the couch.

Crowley was curled around Aziraphale, lanky legs hooked into the angel’s thighs. You settled yourself against Aziraphale, curling your own body so your head rested on his shoulder and your legs rested on Crowley’s. The three of you stayed like that, curled up on the couch, just basking in the presence of each other. In the afternoon sun, your eyes drifted closed, and you fell into warm, comfortable darkness.




You woke groggy and irritated. Your stomach felt hot and corrosive, and your body was much too warm, sweat dampening in uncomfortable places. You groaned, tugging the blanket spread around you off.

An irritated grunt sounded, and the blanket was jerked back on by a very sleepy Crowley, who was blinking awake. His head lifted off of Aziraphale’s chest, yellow eyes half lidded, gazing at you. You couldn’t tell if he was about to tell you he loved you, or gripe at you for kicking the blanket off. Luckily, you were spared when Aziraphale’s hand came up to stroke his hair, and the demon settled back into his chest with a sigh.

Wiggling out from beneath the blanket, you adjusted yourself on the couch, spread out on the opposite side from your lovers. You closed your eyes and laid your head against the arm rest, feeling the heat leave your body. You felt much better when your body wasn’t so warm, although your head was still fuzzy and your stomach still felt like battery acid.

“It’s nice to see you’re awake, my dear.” Aziraphale’s voice, soft and gentle, graced your ears. You leaned into it, toes reaching out to press into the angel’s side. 

“Hey Zira.” You grumble, tilting your head down so you could see him. “I love you.”

His grin fills his whole face, and Crowley shifts against his chest. The demon’s eyes pop open again, and you smile apologetically back at him. He hums, and curls closer into Aziraphale, as if he wasn’t already squeezed as tight as possible against him.

You stretch, lifting your arms up and above your head, spreading your body out. Various bones cracked along your body, and you got up off the couch and headed into the kitchen for a glass of water. Padding gently into the kitchen, you grab a glass, one of the rainbow-prism goblets you’d shown Crowley in a store one night out. He’d grinned, and immediately bought a full set of the prettiest yet most over the top glasses you’d ever seen. Every time you used one, it brought it’s own little smile on your face, and you frequently told whoever was nearby. This time, nobody was close enough for you to talk about the cups, so you simply whispered to yourself as you filled up your glass.

When you were back in the living room, much more refreshed after the ice cold water turned your corrosive stomach into something a bit more comfortable, you saw that Crowley was now awake. He was murmuring to Aziraphale in hushed, soft tones, the angel listening attentively. You relaxed onto the cushions, taking care to make sure your glass didn’t spill anything, listening into their conversation. Aziraphale laughed, light and twinkling like bells, and your entire body relaxed at the sound.

A thought came to you once the two had quieted down, settling against each other with gentle sighs. “Hey,” you began, tone soft and malleable. “What makes you guys think of me?”

They looked at you, angel blues and yellow slits peering at your form. “Whatever do you mean by that?” Your angel questioned, thumb stroking the back of Crowley’s hand.

“I mean, well- Like this.” You stuttered, trying to come up with a good way to explain it. “Whatever makes you guys think of me. Like, when I see hardcover books, I think of Aziraphale.” Crowley hummed, nodding against Aziraphale’s stomach. 

“What else makes you think of him, sweetheart?” The demon asked, smile soft and yet always with a smudge of indecency. You hummed, eyes rolling to the ceiling as you thought.

“The smell of vanilla. Any sort of dessert, but especially cake. Books. Bell chimes. Churches. Bibles. Light. Little hidden restaurants. The bookshop. Soho. Cocoa. The color white. The Pokemon Wooloo. Steven Universe. Terrible magic tricks. Classical music. Books. Did I say books already? I always think of you when I think about books.” You listed the ones you could think of out, humming to yourself as you tried to remember more. You heard a sound from beside you, and you looked to see Aziraphale burying his face in his hands, Crowley gazing at him with smug adoration.

“Oh, my dear, please…” Aziraphale whimpered against his hands, and Crowley cooed with rapture, hands coming up to remove the angel’s hands. He looked soft and bashful, cheeks flushed a sweet red. He locked gazes with Crowley, and huffed before looking back to you.

“And what about Crowley? What makes you think of this wily serpent?” Aziraphale questioned, giving a pointed look to said demon. Crowley looked almost offended until you began to speak.

“Snakes, for one. Sunglasses, always sunglasses with Crowley. Dark clothes. Tattoos. House plants. Queen. The Bentley. Any sort of music with a bump to it, really. Snake eyes. Money. Also Pokemon. The couch. Coffee. Dark chocolate. The color red. Hellfire.” You went on, and watched as Crowley’s face became redder and redder, until the demon pointedly buried his face into Aziraphale’s stomach. You cut yourself off with a laugh, draining your water and setting the glass back onto it’s coaster. 

The three of you sat in comfortable silence, you swimming in your delight to not only have truly embarassed Aziraphale (easy), but also Crowley (hard). You were starting to mentally drift off when Crowley’s voice broke into your daydream. 

“Roses.”

You turn to look at him, humming a nonverbal ‘speak again’. Demon and angel looked at you, and you shifted under their gaze.

“I said, roses. Roses make me think of you. You’ve got all sorts of rose scented soaps and lotions and whatnot.” Crowley expands, hands fidgeting from where they’re clasped with Aziraphale. The angel nods in agreement, hands coming up to pet Crowley’s hair.

“Screens always make me think of you, darling.” The angel states, gazing at you with love. You shy under his gaze, suddenly understanding why they got so embarrassed. “Ever since we first met you, you’ve always had some sort of technology with a screen nearby. Not to mention that every free moment of yours is usually spent in front of one.” You flushed, this time in the bad way.

“Sorry about that. I’ll try to spend more time with you guys.” Your partner’s eyebrows furrowed, and you looked away, trying very hard to not let your eyes fill with tears. You weren’t one to take criticism easily, especially on a topic you’d had problems with other people in the past with. What if you weren’t paying enough attention to them? Is that what he was saying?

“No, darling, I certainly didn’t mean it like that.” You look back over, your mood doing another flip. Your angel looked at you with concern, and you reached your hand out to reach for his. Aziraphale took it, running his thumb over your knuckles loosely. “I do not mind however much time you spend in front of your technology. Good heavens know what I’d do if you all complained of me spending too much time with my books.” You giggled, squeezing Aziraphale’s hand. Crowley grinned next to him, sharp teeth glinting in the light.

“We’ve all got our own things, sweetheart. And I couldn’t give less of a shit if you indulged in yours. As long as you pay attention to us sometimes, you’re good.” Crowley said, his free hand coming to clutch your other one. 

“What’re those flags you’ve got hanging up everywhere? Pride? Yeah, that stuff reminds me of you, too.” The demon stuttered, letting go of your hand to clamber across Aziraphale’s lap, closer to you. The angel hummed, reminded of the original topic.

“Yes, and those things you collect, from all the television shows and video games and such.” Aziraphale stated, your face getting hot.

“Clean laundry. You’re always on top of that sort of stuff, with your schedule and all.” Crowley grinned.

“The loud music you play!”

“Aziraphale, angel, you think all music except classical is loud.”

“Because it is!”

You laughed brightly, face aflame and soul consumed with love. You wrapped your arms around Crowley, who hugged you back fiercely. Looking over his shoulder, you reached out and grasped Aziraphale’s sweater, tugging it slightly. The angel dutifully wormed his way behind you and Crowley, hugging the both of you as best he could. You felt warm, safe, and secure, in the arms of what were most likely the two most powerful beings on the planet.

Oh, wait. That wasn’t right, that kid, Adam? Was the antichrist, apparently he could warp reality or whatever.

That gave you an idea. But you mulled it over just enough times to remember it, and then stored it away in the furthest reach in your mind. Now, you had an angel and a demon to tend to, and by the way they were both pressing kisses into your face, they wanted your attention.




After the three of you had a long, adoring cuddle session, Aziraphale had suggested the thought of dinner. At the reminder of food, you realized you were actually quite hungry, and leaped up to start making yourself food, only to find one of your favorites warm and ready by the time you got there. You’d picked it up with a smile, grabbing two slices of cake for Aziraphale and Crowley as well. Coming back into the living room, you settled at Crowley’s side, the demon being squished between you and Aziraphale.

You ate by the light of the TV, this time being your turn to pick the show. You’d picked some sci-fi show about a time traveler and their companion, only half paying attention when your partners kept making snarky corrections every half minute. You had to try very hard not to choke through your laughter.

You’d all watched a few more episodes before bed, the three of you slowly getting into it rather than just picking apart every episode. By the last one, you were yawning and your eyelids were drooping. At the end credits, Crowley stood, stretching his body out. You gazed at him, tired enough that when he bent down to pick you up, you didn’t make a sound, just settled into his arms like you were born there. 

He carried you to the bedroom, sliding you into the sheets. You curled up on your pillow, in the spot closest to the wall. Crowley slid in after you, shifting until your head was buried in his neck, bodies pressed tightly together, warmth flooding through you. Aziraphale followed after you two, reaching out to turn the fan on with a flick of his fingers against the light switch. He slid into bed, something that was becoming more and more common as the months went by. Aziraphale smoothed his body out so he was spooning Crowley, the demon humming his delight into your face. You reached up, pressing gentle kisses across his jaw, murmuring unintelligible praises and sweet nothings against his skin. His hands rubbed your sides, sliding under your top to let his hands warm your skin.

You couldn’t yet sleep, still awake from your earlier nap, but still tired from too much TV. So, you wiggled in place until Crowley grunted at you, and you gently pushed on his shoulder. He obliged, letting you climb over him, swapping places so you were facing Aziraphale and being spooned by Crowley. The demon gave a long hum, settled and satisfied, and you could feel his body slowly going lax.

Aziraphale and you talked into the long hours of the night, quiet conversation ranging from poetry to Steven Universe, the only television show he watched because you’d gotten him hooked on it. You were warm and comfortable, the outside room being cold enough that Crowley’s heat sinking into your skin did not create uncomfortable moistness.

“Sweetest, why aren’t you asleep already? You’re always so grumpy when you’re up this late.” Azirphale whispered to you, hand stroking the hair near your ear. You leaned into him, hand coming up to grasp his.

“The nap I took earlier messed up my sleeping times. Can you pass me my switch? I wanna play Pokemon.” You whispered into his skin, and found your free hand full of plastic within a moment. “Thank you,” you cooed, kissing the angel’s collarbone. Crowley slumbered on beside you, a warm and heavy weight on the bedsheets.

The night was spent making progress on your game, tiredly searching for shinies. You’d wanted to actually catch this one yourself this time, and not have your partners miracle it into the game for you. Although, you were getting near the end of your wits. Your angel watched you, asking questions every now and then. You’d caught a few that he found adorable, and opened Amie so that he could play with them, passing the switch into his inexperienced hands. 

In the darkness, you instructed Aziraphale in caring for your Pokemon, letting him grab the stylus so that he could pet the Pokemon. He loved Wooloo in particular, and that one you let him feed Pokepuffs to, giggling as he attempted the minigames. His fourth time failing at Berry Picker you took pity on him, taking your switch back and showing him how it’s done. You raked up the scores, making it to nearly 130, listening to Aziraphale shower you with praises and letting the warmth from that sink into your very bones.

Finally, in the early hours of the morning, you settled against the sheets with a yawn, turning to face Crowley, who’d been resting peacefully throughout the night. You cuddled into his warmth, murmuring an apology to your angel.

“‘M sorry, love, but I’m really tired now. I think ‘m gonna sleep. Keep playing with the Pokemon, they need more attention.” You mumbled into Crowley’s chest, scrunching up your face in delight as the demon mumbled in his sleep in a response to you.

“Alright, darling. You rest now. I’ll take care of them all for you.” Aziraphale’s voice was like heaven to your mind, soothing and gentle and everything you needed. You slipped into a light rest at the sound of the stylus tapping and Aziraphale’s little praises to your Pokemon, Crowley’s arms tangling around your waist as you slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I LOVE YOU ALL THANKS FOR READING!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> i know i dont respond to comments but!!!!!!!!!!!! holy fuck when i saw the comments yall left last chapter,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, i screamed. boi i DIE. yall are so wonderful and supportive i???? jsut <3 <3 <3
> 
> no, the sailor moon 30th anniversary pens arent real :c the pokemon game is coming out later this year tho, so yeehaw for that!!!! aziraphale and reader binge steven universe lol, he totally knows all the songs and has the soundtrack on vinyl. i will never stop putting my own interests into my fanfics. lmao sugar daddies az and crow (they arent, but do love getting the reader presents)
> 
> hey!! guess what!!! next chapter is nsfw ;3 so i have a 3 chapter arc planned!!!!!!!!! so get ready for that yall!!!! i hope you like it!!!!! ive been planning it for a hot second and its Very Gay.
> 
> if you like this wack shit, leave a comment!!!!!!!!!!! it gives me a big ole case of the Valids and i adore every single one of them!!! i check my email first thing when i wake up so i can see if i got any more comments. so!!!!! thank you all!!!! hope you like the chapters to come!!!


	6. Snake Fangs (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. folk. its been like. a month. so i thought id let yall know whats been poppin.
> 
> ive been incredibly depressed since i updated, and i actually wrote this chapter like a week and a half ago, but never got around to finishing it. ive been busy making internet friends and then dealing with Life Shit, so yeehaw!!! ive read all of your comments, and even at my worst it always made me feel at least a little Something to read them.
> 
> that being said, this is monsterfucker trash. snake crowley for the win, folks. i tried to stick with my gender neutral stuff, but my discord folk really wanted some gender neutral v. so yeet

Crowley’s tongue was long.

You knew this. You’d seen it before, flickering out of his mouth every few seconds whenever he decided to let loose around you and Aziraphale. Sitting here, on Aziraphale’s chair, watching Crowley curl around the angel, scales flowing over his clothes, you were thinking about Crowley’s tongue. You were thinking a bit too much about Crowley’s tongue.   
It was strange, really. Just two minutes ago you were calmly reading, engrossed in the fiction of one of your favorite authors. Then, your mind had mulled over a line, inevitably wandered, and then was lost to the stream of thought. First you had thought about the walls coated in books, the maroon of the paint barely visible over the stacks and stacks of paper. Then you had thought about Aziraphale, eyes darting over to observe the angel reading his book, engrossed beyond words. Then to the snake coiled around his body, enormous head the size of a pumpkin resting in the angel’s lap. His tongue flicked out slowly, almost lazily, and your mind had yet again wandered, this time in the more lewd direction.

You could feel yourself getting wetter, trying not to squirm in the seat as you thought about it more and more. Your book was left forgotten in your lap, and you turned your eyes to the page, not reading a single word but desperately trying to ease the edge. Still, your mind rolled through just exactly what this Crowley could do with his tongue. What if he could lick you, dip inside of you, further than even his fingers? Yes, you already knew it was much, much longer than his fingers.

Movement from the corner of your eye startled you out of your haze. You clutched your book to your chest as Crowley’s enormous head lifted up, tilting so one unblinking eye stared straight at you. Your breath stopped in your chest, heat drifting across your cheeks under the intense stare. After what felt like a thousand years, Crowley’s tongue slid out, flickering in the air. It stopped mid-flicker, entire body freezing in place. You felt cold sweat start to bead on your back as you realized that maybe Crowley could  _ taste _ you in the air. His head tilted ever so slightly, and his tongue came out for one last, final check. You watched as his pupil dilated, and his mouth opened in a silent, snake grin.

Faster than you could comprehend, he was on you, scales sliding warm and soft on your lap, on your legs, on your arms as he bound you with his body. You heard him chuckle, more in your mind than with your ears, still dark and sinuous all the same. His head was twice as big as yours, and you knew he could easily swallow you whole. The thought made fear shoot through you, but not enough. Never enough.

“Sssssweetheart…” Crowley crooned into your ear, the syllables long and dragged out like a highway straight to hell. You made a little noise in the back of your throat, helplessly turned on as his tongue flicked out rapidly, head beginning to nose at the top of your pants. You jerked in his grip, and he tightened around you, coiling so sweetly around your torso and moving the length of his body on your thighs out of the way. “Oh, that  _ sssmell _ …”

You wiggled in place as best you could, whining when you found that the only thing you could move were your legs. Crowley’s head bumped in between your thighs, tongue lapping over the material of your pants as best as he could with them still pressed together so tightly. He hissed once more, the sound sharp and painfully arousing.

“Spread ‘em. Lemme taste you.” Your legs fell open immediately, already panting for breath as your chest was squeezed tighter and tighter. Crowley opened his mouth in a smile, fangs glinting against the roof of his mouth. “Good. Perfect little ssslut.” 

Slowly, ever so carefully, his fangs descended from the roof of his mouth, long and impossibly sharp. He eased them against your skin, so cold and yet they felt like nothing you’d ever touched before. Carefully easing them against the material of your pyjama pants, he slid them against the waistline, hooking them gently, before dragging them down your legs. He got them to your ankles before you made a weak sound of protest, wiggling in where he kept you. 

“Cloudy. Just a little. Please.” You got out, struggling for breath, overloaded too much to say anything more. Immediately, the pressure around your chest loosened, fangs unhooking from your pants to curl back into his massive head. He turned his head to stare one pupil at you, and you could almost feel the concern in the air. You took a deep breath and spoke again, struggling around your own arousal to form the words. “Leave my pants on, please. I like the tight. Around my chest. Please. Please, Crowley.” You heaved another breath, long and desperate. “I need you.”

He made a choked sound between a moan and a hiss, and dived between your thighs, head pressing your thighs apart and tongue immediately sweeping across your lips. You whined, loud and long, and from the corner of your eye caught Aziraphale’s flushed face. Lolling your head to the side, you aimed to say something to him, or at least moan in his direction, but Crowley took that moment to press his tongue against your clit and the rest of the earth was lost.

He couldn’t suck at you like this, not without any sort of lips, but that didn’t matter when his tongue was long and forked and he knew how to use it so well. Crowley dragged it across your labia, flickering across your clit in light, teasing touches. You writhed in his grasp and let out a wheezed moan when he teased at your entrance, the forked tips of his tongue so sensitive around your opening. 

By the time he started to tonguefuck you in earnest, you were starting to barely huff breaths from around the constricting tightness on your chest, making you ever closer to orgasm. His tongue slid easily from your wetness, the scales around the tip of his nose and jaw glistening in the light when you managed to look down. You could hear Crowley giving off sweet little hums and moans, tiny little croons of barely-there words teasing the edge of your mind as your peak built higher and higher. His tongue stroked your walls, wet and slick and hotter than you could possibly imagine. 

“Crowley-  _ aah, please-  _ I’m gonna cum, Crowley, please!” You whined high and loud, barely able to breathe, wheezing around the constriction. You felt more than heard Crowley hiss, so predatory and so possessive that you clenched around his tongue, wiggling your hips so your clit bumped up against his nose. Harsh and clumsy, you rubbed against him, his tongue pressing down on your g-spot rapidly. It was tight, too tight, too much, desperately humping against his nose and his tongue fluctuating inside you, barely able to take a breath. He hissed again, this time dragging out the syllables of your name, sharp and venomous and coated in sin.

Your head snapped back as you shrieked, pleasure breaking the dam and flooding within you. Crowley opened his mouth slightly as you squirted, his tongue guiding your slick down his throat. He moaned against you, the vibrations humming against your mind, and it only made you squeeze your thighs tighter around his head. 

He milked two more orgasms out of you, each one more and more lax in your belly. He’d let up with the constriction, and by the time he finally loosened up around your chest, you were soaked in sweat, drool, and cum. Most of it had gotten on Crowley, though, some missing his mouth and instead dripping down the length of his neck and underbelly. He crooned soft, gentle words into your mind, snake head coming up to nudge at your face. You could feel some of your cum smear onto your cheek. 

The comforting weight of his body left you, but you were too tired to fuss. Your world was hazy and soft, and at the edges of it you could feel two pairs of arms wrap around your body. The smell of books and church bells and ozone flooded you, and your body went lax, face snuggled into Aziraphale’s coat. Distantly, you could hear the two of them talking, hands tracing loving patterns across your body. You settled into the haze, letting your lovers press kisses and gentle touches into your skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo!!! i hope you enjoyed this snakefucker fic. 
> 
> that being said, i think i got a comment asking what stimming is. its something adhd/autistic people do that makes us feel Happy. it grounds us, and can take the form of many different things. my personal stims are chewing bubble gum, ruffling my hair, and shaking my head and torso back and forth. other people stim too, in fact those 'oddly satisfying' videos are you stimming!! we adhd/autistic folk just need it more than everyone else.
> 
> also!!! i actually have stuff planned for the next few chapters so Fuck Yeah Yeehaw!!!! ive been wanting to write that shit for fooooreeeevvvverrrr so yeet!!!
> 
> also if i dont update by then can yall wish me luck for my upcoming roadtrip??? im traveling to meet someone special i met and im super duper excited for it <3
> 
> either way, hope yall are good!!! dont forget to comment, i love all of them and they all bring me a sweet little surprise of joy!!!

**Author's Note:**

> i could not separate my otp, lol. 
> 
> so ive decided to write some mini drabbles and chuck them on here like the hot fucking potato so here yall go. also i totally called crowleys laugh yippy lol. not to be confused with yiffy pls. i went back and fixed some errors, let me know if theres any more pls
> 
> if u liked it, pls comment. it makes my day, really. idc if its just screaming, i love it


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